It's not me, it's him Part One
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Rick.
That name did not warm my heart. Instead, I felt sharp, uncertain, cold spears crash through it. When I thought about him, I thought of those blue eyes, much like the Mediterranean Sea I used to visit every summer. Though the water was so icy, it quickly warmed when you were inside. And the longer you stayed inside, the more you felt at peace.
Cold to look at, but oh so warm inside.
Rick was so fit, because he liked his sports. So smiley, because his heart loved life. So passionate, because we clicked.
Rick was the first person who'd fucked me in a very long time.
I hate being fucked. When a bottom suggests flipping, I suggest the fastest way for them to leave is through my second story window. But not Rick, his lips melted into mine as our bodies pressed together, so when he told me he'd love to fuck me, I told him I'd let him try.
Rick was only visiting my city as part of a whiz around Europe.
It might have been better if Rick and I had never met.
But that Wednesday afternoon, bored with my day and my job, I loaded an app in hunt of trouble. So trouble came in the form of him.
Rick and I clicked. It took a dick pic, a body pic and a smile and some compliments before I shoved my address across. Not a minute after the promised 45-minutes, he arrived looking better than his pics.
Maybe he'd been blonde as a child, or perhaps the sun did really kiss it as much as I wanted to kiss the rest of him, and with his fair skin, toned body and fashionably black-painted nails, I was all in.
He said something, I don't care what. He had an accent. He said lots of things, but I just wanted to get him naked.
We kissed as we made our way to my bed. I know Rick was ready to be fucked, and I promised with my eyes that we'd get there. I needed to push my full body into his, feel our dicks rubbing together as we slowly built passion, while my hands explored him.
A part of me just needed to make sure he was real. It's not often that the absolute perfect manifestation of what you desire turns up in your bed.
And when I say perfection, his 8.5 uncut dick should be cast, created into a mould and sold to the highest bidder while his perfectly fit arse, slid onto my dick like it had been made for me.
When it's this good, and the sex is incredible, you're in heaven.
But when the kiss is precisely as passionate as you could ever hope for, what does that make it? Beyond imagining.
"Open relationships are totally fine," I'd argued with a long-time single friend, "you just need trust and respect. Then you can have fun along the way."
He, after countless years of eternal singledom quipped, "No. You kid yourself, but if you're looking for sex in other beds, yours isn't a good one."
"And that's why you're single," I said without shame, though I should have felt some.
And I meant this. Every. Single. Word.
Until that day when Rick came into my bed, and my husband of nearly 9 years disappeared from my mind completely.
I fucked Rick and I sucked his dick, discovering I could deep-throat like never before. And as deep as I could suck, I could fuck even deeper. Watching his eyes mist with the pleasure of it, then lock on mine with gratitude and then rewarding me with an even deeper kiss.
I swam in a bit of euphoria for an hour or so, as this random visitor fulfilled fantasies long since sequestered to...well, fantasies.
I know it had been an hour because I was late for a meeting.
I jokingly said, "you're here for 2 more days. So does that mean 2 more fucks?"
And he smiled, giving me a smile I still remember. "Yes please. And can I fuck you?"
"Of course. I haven't bottomed in decades, but I'll give it a shot if you go slow."
People say all sorts of shit in the heat of the moment and when Rick left that day, I figured we were giving each other the same old lip service.
I dreamed that night of Rick, even as the love of my life slept next to me unaware of the mind-blowing experience I'd just had.
I thought a lot about Rick the next morning, though I hardly expected him to message me asking for round two.
"What time today?"
I treaded cautiously.
This was the first time in my long term relationship I had met someone else who ticked all those boxes. The similarities between my husband and Rick were uncanny, but this was much more than that. Even after that one meet, I wanted to do things with this man that I never did with random guys.
He arrived that day on time, with a smile and looking as hungry as I felt. He appeared much more relaxed, and more intent on allowing himself to go with it all.
That blur of transporting naked to my bed, as we touched each other's bodies with a little more care. Kissed more from the beginning, licked our way through more exploration and swum in a forbidden ocean of lust that's usually reserved for singles.
My tongue dove deep between his bum cheeks. I licked him so deep; I moved my tongue around; darting in and out, exploring his beautiful, fit, arse. My mouth and my throat swallowed his dick whole then. That foreskin on my tongue, while he throbbed his way down to the back of my throat. It was exquisite.
I loved licking between his hole and up to his cock, circling the foreskin more with my tongue, ravaging the inside of his thigh with my mouth as I took in his smells.
But what took me by surprise was when he manoeuvred himself on top and pressed into me. He drove the passionate kisses like a top normally would, and he licked down past my nipples and to my cock. Surely not like the length of his but possibly wider and more of a breathtaking entry. And he gave me a bj I'll never forget. Looking up at me with his hungry eyes, licking my balls, my shaft as those twin blue flames twinkled a cheeky warning, before he took all of me into his mouth and my back arched.
He swallowed my dick whole. Then he dove down and past my forbidden space and I opened fully for him. I'd said I would, and I wanted him to. For the first time in years.
He gently licked me to lubricate me, but also because he seemed to enjoy it. Rick was down there a while and I found myself enjoying it. That strange sensation, when someone tickles your hole with their tongue and you begin to squirm.
I don't know how long Rick was down there, but once more I forgot where I was or how much time had passed.
Eventually, he came up and kissed me. It was a long, passionate kiss as he pressed his cock against mine.
Nothing on this planet will compare to that feeling when the most amazing looking human being kisses you like that and pushes their body against you so that every part of both of you is touching. When his dick slid slightly down, I felt it press against my hole. I kissed him harder and braced for whatever was coming, knowing he'd care for me as though we were lovers.
I said I'd try and I was going to.
And as if I couldn't like Rick anymore, he slowly, gently somehow managed to get that large dick all the way inside me. Each inch felt like a mile, but his kisses on my lips and nurturing eyes made me relax as though they were millimetres.
We built a rhythm, fucking, kissing, touching each other's bodies.
Our fingers linked.
It was that closeness. That level of intimacy. A handsome face that I would fantasise about for years to come.
Rick built more than just a rhythm and for a lot longer than I'd expected, and I let him go as deep as he desired. He respected every inch he got and rewarded me with many moments of what felt like love. It's that `during sex' love that dissipates afterwards, but doesn't mean it didn't exist to begin with.
We kissed, he slid in and out of me and rammed harder and harder, each time touching my ears, my face, looking into my eyes and making me feel like I was all there was.
And then I flipped him and rode him hard, rewarding him with those same kisses. Passionate, long and deep strides while we connected on every level.
Then I shot my load inside him, without warning and groaned out loud. I didn't know it was cumming, so soon and so quickly.
As though he'd been holding back and had been given the nod, he instantly blew his hot load all across his chest.
I swear it hit the wall and probably the ceiling.
For the first time with someone other than my husband, I held his hand as we regained our composure and slid alongside him. I did not want to let him go. I could probably have gone again.
"Fuck."
"That was insane."
"Hot."
"Passionate."
"Day 3 tomorrow?"
"Yes! I'm with my husband and we've got plans later, but possibly in the daytime," Rick told me.
"Oh, you're married too. Great," I said with some disappointment, though I don't know why. I was married too. This should make it less complicated.
"9 years," he said.
"No way! Us too!"
"What a coincidence. So, I'm keen for a third round for sure! We leave in a couple days so that will be my last opportunity."
I cancelled meetings that next day. I had to find out what day 3 would be like.
My mind screamed at me to say no. But already every other part of me was excited for day 3.
As he left that second day, he stopped to kiss me at the door. "You're really hot. That was incredibly hot sex."
I knew I could not see this guy again, but I had to. There really was no way I could stop. Day 3 would be the decider.
Even if it was too dangerous.
Although I'd told Rick that I'd tell my partner about us, because we're open right? That's how it works? I didn't. I kept it to myself.
And that next morning, Rick messaged. "Hey, shit I'm sorry. I can't do today after all. I've got friends arriving and plans," he wrote.
"Did you tell Arden about me?" I responded. "You're open, right?"
"We are open, but I didn't. Don't know why," he responded.
"Oh. Well, didn't get the 3 days, but I'm happy with the 2 we had. It was incredible. Thanks."
When Rick and his partner left my city, I expected this story to draw to a nice close. Even though I felt something; some kind of feeling that was both infatuation and lust, I knew it was over.
He flew back to New York that Monday and I thought about him with a smile.
It was time to let it go and to start addressing the reality that I was in a happily committed marriage and that what had happened with Rick was mind blowing, and certainly needed a lot of analysis.
Now that he'd gone, I was able to get on with my life and move on.
Except I couldn't.
After he returned back to the states, he messaged me to tell me he couldn't stop thinking about our sex and me.
I told him that I felt the same way.
Weeks have passed, and I'm now considering going to New York for a short trip.
We're both keen and yet terrified.
To what end? What do we hope to get out of this?
Are we friends?
Definitely.
Fuckbuddies?
Maybe.
We message nearly every day. Sometimes we call, and sometimes we swap pics. We've phone wanked together.
And now, even though I have a happy marriage, as does Rick, I'm finding myself about to embark on a journey across the continents to his city so I can spend a couple of weeks nearby and see what that 3rd day would have been like. I need to know.
I hate things that don't have a proper ending.
The End For Now.